The Cougar's Pawn

by Holley Trent

  Mason’s deep chuckle rent the air.

  She nearly hit the ground for forgetting that she was no longer on it, but managed to slow her fall.

  Mason picked her up and kissed her hard as Agatha took over the coyote-wrangling.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is all my fault.”

  “Probably,” she said breathily as she tried to get her noodle legs beneath her.

  He kissed her again.

  “Definitely. Oh yeah. All your fault.”

  “You meant what you said?”

  “About what?”

  At the moment, looking into his gold-specked eyes, she couldn’t remember her middle name … or if she even had one.

  “That you’re not going anywhere … and about me being your boyfriend.”

  “Oh.” She had said that, hadn’t she?

  “Give me the words,” he said, holding her face between his hands. “Please. Tell me you’re staying with me.”

  “Right now?”

  “Ellery. Please. I’m sorry for being a dick. I can’t help what I am, but I’m trying to do better. Please don’t make me wait. You’re going to drive me crazy if you make me wait.”

  “Gods forbid we introduce any more crazy into our lives.”

  “Ellery, stop stringing the man along,” Agatha said. No signs of strain in her voice at all. Obviously, the coyotes weren’t much of a fight. “I know how hard it is for you to just give an easy yes, but he’s a good match for you.”

  “Hmm, I wonder why you’d be so sure of that.”

  “I don’t like your tone,” Agatha muttered under her breath.

  “Ellery,” Mason nudged her focus back to him. “Yes or no? I swear I’ll do right by you. Do you want me to beg? I can beg for Nick, if it’ll help.” He dropped to both knees and Ellery yanked him back up with her cheeks burning hot as a furnace.

  “Dear lord, don’t do that. I’m hardly worth the ruination of a decent pair of jeans.”

  “Yes you are. That and more. Please?”

  Time to let the man off the freakin’ hook. “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I’ll stay.” She’d never known such exquisite relief, and she knew her choice was right. She was home now.

  He picked her up and spun her around several times.

  She was dizzy with motion and love and drunk on magic all she could do was laugh. “You big, dirty red dope.”

  “I’ll be a dope if that’s what you like.”

  “Where’s Nick?”

  “Millie’s watching him. Give me a second.” He planted one more kiss on her—this time on her forehead—and let go of her.

  He strode over to Agatha, leaned in to say something Ellery couldn’t catch, and Agatha nodded.

  The dirt column fell like a curtain off a broken rod, and before the coyotes could catch their bearings, Mason reached in and grabbed one of them by the scruff of its neck.

  He gave the beast a hard shake, and at the assault, a man emerged from it.

  The other coyote took off, and Ellery started after it.

  “Don’t,” Mason said. “I’ll deal with her later.”

  Ellery turned back in time to see Mason drop the naked man onto the ground.

  “You really think that was smart?” Mason asked. “Chasing my girl?”

  The shaggy-haired man shrugged. “She ran. We chased.”

  “Try again with a better answer. What were you doing out here, anyway? The way I see it, there’s no reason for you to know about this place unless a certain wannabe-alpha clued you in on his plans.”

  The Were-coyote widened his eyes as if genuinely appalled. “No way! You know we don’t make deals like that. We go where there’s opportunity. Saw Edgar grab her, so we followed his truck.”

  “And if you would have gotten me, then what?” Ellery asked. She stomped over to the man and swatted his matted hair out of his face. “I’m not going to be anyone else’s pawn, so don’t even say it.”

  He cringed. “You better get used to this kinda stuff if you’re going to stick around, lady.”

  She looked at Mason. “I refuse to be abducted on a weekly basis.”

  He sighed. “You won’t be.”

  Agatha laughed softly behind them. “Keep hurling power around like you did, and no one’s going to want to get within fifty feet of you. I’m so proud. You’re a true daughter of air.”

  Ellery wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn the goddess sniffled. She jabbed a finger in her great-great-great-whatever’s direction. “You set this up, didn’t you? You’re half at fault for getting me in this mess.”

  Agatha blinked. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Save it. You’re just like Gail. Can’t be meek to save your life.”

  Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. So, maybe I was owed a favor. And maybe a certain goddess thought a certain group of Cougars needed to get their heads out of their asses.”

  “’Scuse me?” Mason asked.

  The Coyote tried to use their momentary distraction to skulk away, but Mason grabbed him by the arm and twisted it behind his back.

  “Ow!”

  Agatha shrugged. “Look, all I did was put things in motion, Ell. I figured a Cougar would be good for you because they fall in love so damned fast—”

  “’Scuse me?” Mason repeated.

  “You falling in love with me, dirty red?” Ellery asked.

  He had the goofiest grin. “That’s beside the point. She makes it sound like I’m easy.”

  “Right. No one could ever accuse you of being that.”

  “And”—Agatha raised her voice—“I knew one would take care of you once he found you.”

  “This conversation is making my head hurt,” the Coyote said.

  “No, that’s just your stupidity building up and oozing out.” Mason let go of him, and the Coyote started to shift back into his canine form. Before he could take off, Mason said, “Spread the word. If folks want to pick fights—including your dumb-as-kibble alpha—send him over. Have him call first, though, so we can have some fresh iced tea and a flea bath waiting for him.”

  The Coyote’s only response was a howl.

  “Well,” Agatha said, brushing her dusty hands clean on her slacks. “Let’s get coordinates on that hole in the ground where Ellery was held, and get out of here. I’ve got an early morning meeting in Mount Pleasant. Traffic on 17 is going to be a bitch.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mason and Ellery returned to his house to find a cambion lounging on the bench by the front door, Pumpkin Pie snoozing on her side beside him, a Coyote on a leash tied to the pole light, and Nick pulling the acquiescent canine’s hair.

  Jill.

  John crooked his thumb toward her. “I could tell that—what the hell happened to your hair?”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  Ellery moved around him squinting at his forehead. “You’ve got a streak.”

  “Dirt? You and Agatha were throwing a lot of it around. It’s expected.”

  “No. Right here.” She tapped the middle of his hairline and pushed her fingers back. “You’ve got a dark swath here.”

  John held his cell phone out to him and pointed to the new snapshot of Mason. “It kind of reminds me of the dark fur wrinkle on a cougar’s brow.”

  “It’s her mark.” Incredulous, Mason zoomed in on the dark swath and gave his head a shake. Never seen one in person.”

  “Whose mark?” Ellery asked.

  “La Bella Dama’s. I guess she thinks I’ve gotten my head out my ass.” It was her acceptance of him as Alpha—a suitable leader for her Cougars.

  “I kept telling you that you were meant for the job.” He looked up to find Hank leaning against the doorframe wearing half a smirk.

  “You know that means she’s watching.”

  Hank bobbed his eyebrows. “Maybe she could toss a guy a clue about which mate of the remaining two is his, then.”

  Mason cringed and gave Ellery a littl
e squeeze. He’d been lucky all along, even if he hadn’t thought it at the time when he’d been steered to her. Perhaps if the goddess were feeling kind, she’d send Hank a dream like Mason’s.

  “This is incredibly fascinating,” John said. “Claude would probably be really interested in the kind of magic flowing through out your group. He keeps records about that kind of stuff.”

  “Someone should, because we sure don’t anymore,” Hank muttered.

  “I’ll send him your way. Anyway … ” John pointed to the coyote again. “I knew she was a Were-coyote and not a coyote-coyote. One of the few useful tricks I have. I guess that’s part of the I-have-a-father-as-old-as-the-universe skill set.” He chuckled.

  “Few useful tricks, my ass,” Ellery said. “Unless you mean besides that teleportation dealie and the ability to conjure things out of thin air.”

  He wagged a finger at her. “Nuh-uh. I can only conjure one particular thing out of thin air. Big Daddy G’s sword, and I’m pretty sure that’s only because of his sufferance. He’s probably going to want it back if he wakes up.” He cringed. “When he wakes up, I mean.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  John rolled his eyes. The expression looked to be almost brotherly. Maybe back in their neck of the woods, they’d behaved as such. She might have needed that kind of protection before, but now she had Mason. He pulled her into his arms and rubbed her back.

  He’d just starting knocking bits of tumbleweed out of her hair when Miles called out in that piercing soprano, “Ellllll! There you are.”

  “Here I am.” Ellery giggled against his chest.

  Miles threw her arms around her, in spite of the fact Ellery was still attached to Mason.

  “How are ya feeling? I can’t say I’ve ever talked to anyone who’s been shot up with a livestock tranquilizer.”

  Ew. “A little groggy, but fine. Just need a good night’s sleep. And maybe an entire cow to eat.”

  Mom could probably see about the cow.

  They rocked in an awkward, three-person hug.

  John covered his face, but Mason could see the red seeping up to his ears and his shoulders bobbing with his quiet laughter.

  Hank raised a curious eyebrow, his gaze on Miles.

  Is she it? Or was that his brother’s nope face?

  Mason sighed and let go. He wasn’t really in a sharing mood, given the circumstances, but didn’t see where he had a choice.

  He let the ladies have their moment, and knelt beside Nick who was still pulling his mother’s fur. He apparently found that to be great fun given his frequent peals of laughter and flailing arms.

  Mason blew a raspberry atop his head and looked at John. “How’d you get a leash on her?”

  John shrugged. “Weird cambion thing, I guess. Couldn’t do it until after my father went into his coma. I can sometimes suggest that creatures do things, and they’ll do it.”

  “Is she hypnotized?”

  “No. She’s probably staying like that so she doesn’t scare Nick. She has free will. Can leave whenever she wants.”

  “Ah.”

  Ellery bent to scoop up Nick, ignoring the quiet growl from the coyote. “Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

  When Ellery was almost out of earshot, Mason whispered, “Did you find Mr. Sheehan?”

  John shook his head. “Gone. Had a sign up on the veterinary office’s door saying he’s on vacation for the foreseeable future.”

  “And no sign of Edgar, I bet.”

  “None.”

  “Shit.”

  “Maybe he won’t come back.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. They’re so deeply rooted here. Been in the area as long as the Foyes have. They’ll be back at some point, especially since they left Ralphie in the lurch. They may or may not give me problems.”

  “Just keep your eyes open. Hey. We may not be able to close your hellmouth yet, but if you need some extra hands, you can call any of us.”

  Mason pressed his hands over Jill’s coyote ears. “Even though I kidnapped Ell?”

  John shrugged again. “Maybe one day, we’ll tell you some of the stories about how my siblings and I ended up with our spouses.” He rubbed his chin, and narrowed his eyes. “Come to think of it, Claude technically kidnapped Gail. He had a good reason, though.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  John turned his hands over in concession. “Well, I gotta go. My wife always has an unusual excess of energy after Zumba class, and I like being around to help her expend it. Shout if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  John vanished in that white flash.

  Mason turned his attention to the coyote. Sighing, he unwound the leash from the pole and unclasped the hook from the collar. That, he removed, too.

  Jill’s fur receded and her body slimmed and lengthened as she shifted back to her woman form. She stood there in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, and stared at the ground.

  “What the fuck, Jill? Really. What the fuck?”

  “You know I’m not always in control.”

  “And that’s why I worry about leaving Nick with you. Don’t you get that? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings before, but you can’t take care of him if you’re not going to be able to think like a woman more often than not. He’s not a shifter. He’s a plain-old human boy. You can’t raise him the same way you were.”

  “I get that.”

  “You understand it, but you don’t act like you do.”

  “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “No, the best you can would be for you to just leave him here. Just leave him, Jill, where there are lots of people to take care of him. People who aren’t going to shift and forget that he can’t shift, too. Who won’t forget that he’s just a baby who can’t walk yet and who can’t hunt or keep up. No one will think badly of you for it. I swear it.”

  “I know.”

  “So, what’s the problem, then? What’s stopping you?”

  “Alpha.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair and tugged. “Forget about your alpha and what he says. If he has a problem, send him to me and I’ll deal with it.”

  “We will deal with it,” Hank said.

  Mason nodded to his brother. “Right. We will.”

  “And my mate … ” she said.

  “You took a mate?”

  She nodded, still staring at the ground.

  “Who?”

  “Esteban.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. The same Coyote who had nearly wet his fur when Mason and Agatha arrived? “Scruffy McPup, you mean? For fuck’s sake. Well, if that’s your destined mate, I can’t really cast aspersions. But, look. I know packs are possessive about what and who belongs to them, but Nick’s mine, okay? He’s not a Coyote, and we’re not going to encourage him to be one. If anyone has a problem with that, you know where to send them. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You can see him whenever you want, but this is his home from now on. He needs stability. Family.”

  “A fulltime mother, huh?”

  The implication hung heavily in the air between them. But he couldn’t deny it. It was something kids needed the same way they needed food to eat and clothes to wear.

  “She loves him, just like the rest of us do.”

  “You make sure of it.”

  He opened his mouth to rebut, but caught Hank shaking his head behind her. Let her have the last word, he seemed to be saying.

  It was easy enough.

  She shifted back into her coyote form and ran at a leisurely gait toward the road.

  When he could no longer see her furry tail wagging, he looked at Hank. “You know, there’s a Jay-Z song title that sort of suits this situation.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “It’s called ‘99 Problems.’ I seemed to have far fewer last week.”

  “You were a different kind of alpha last week.”

  Mason couldn’t deny it. He also couldn’t deny h
e had chosen the exact right kind of helpmate.

  At that, he loped toward Mom’s—toward his kid and his girl.

  He needed to extract a few words from her, just for the reminder. He didn’t know how many times he’d need to hear it to soothe his soul, but one more couldn’t hurt.

  Mason, I’m staying.

  About the Author

  Holley Trent is the author of more than thirty works of diverse contemporary, paranormal, and erotic romance. Although raised in rural North Carolina, she currently resides on the Colorado Front Range. A southern girl at heart, she occasionally wears flip-flops in winter and still sometimes forgets which time zone she’s in.

  Learn more about her Desert Guards series at her website www.holleytrent.com. While you’re there, sign up for her paranormal romance newsletter so you don’t miss the next installment in the saga that started with A Demon in Waiting.

  More from This Author

  Praise for A Demon in Waiting:

  “A Demon in Waiting is a quick, enjoyable read. The characters are very well developed and the story moves along at a great pace. John is a refreshing hero. I loved the ‘new to the job’ demon angle. I am looking forward to future books in this series.”—Book Chick City

  (From A Demon in Waiting by Holley Trent)

  Gulielmus crept through the dark hallway with all the stealth of a tap-dancing elephant. It didn’t matter how gently he set his socked feet upon the carpet; the hardwood floor creaked and groaned beneath his weight. At nearly seven feet tall and well over two hundred-fifty pounds, he’d never pass the entrance exam for ninja training school. Didn’t matter. He generally didn’t concern himself with discretion as he could vanish and rematerialize as needed. However, this was a special situation.

  “Last time I fuck a sister-wife,” he mumbled, wrapping his fingers around the next doorknob he encountered. He let himself into the bedroom, ever so similar to the last room he’d investigated with its spartan furnishings, white paint, and boring hand-quilted bedspread. Always floral prints.